


A Line To Withdraw

by koo1creations



Category: Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon 2012)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends, Canon Universe, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Spider-Man - Freeform, USM - Freeform, Ultimate Spider-Man - Freeform, frienship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26465647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koo1creations/pseuds/koo1creations
Summary: Who knows what Harry really knows? Who know what he's aware of? He doesn't even know.There's this dream that has been plaguing him for the past several nights. A dream where he's stuck on this line that he can't escape from.He doesn't know what it means. He's not sure he wants to. But it has something to do with his best friend...and Spider-Man. But...Those two couldn't be further from each other, could they?
Relationships: Harry Osborn & Mary Jane Watson, Harry Osborn & Peter Parker, Harry Osborn & Peter Parker & Mary Jane Watson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	A Line To Withdraw

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based off a nightmare my dad had.
> 
> He said he dreamed that he was stuck on this line. He couldn't move, but he was hurtling forward following the line. Every once in a while it'd make a sharp turn. He had no control. He still says it's one of the worst dreams he's ever had.
> 
> I just got back into the show so you'll have to bear with me here. Please enjoy!

Do you know that feeling? That feeling of displacement? That feeling you get when you start to notice that your life is more like a cycle than living? Harry had that feeling everyday. It wasn’t a good one. Being aware wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be.  
  
Some days were worse than others. Some days there was a longing. A desperate plea for a life that felt less manufactured. Of course, he got his wish a couple of times, but never in the way he would have preferred. Life was a rough downhill spiral of emotional turmoil. And Harry knew that he must have been one of the universe's favorite subjects.  
  
When the time came to sleep, Harry couldn’t help his sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair. Sleeping wasn't the nightmare. It was the resting part that seemed to always get him. When he closed his eyes his body and mind would ache, constantly at war with each other. The thoughts that just wouldn't leave him. The writhing. It was an act of god to feel like a functional human being after he woke up from one of those. 

Still, he had to sleep. Avoiding it wasn't much better. So Harry went to sleep. 

Do you know what Harry dreamt? Because he didn't. He had had the same dream every night for a week and he was certain it meant something. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to tell himself. Or what some higher power might have been trying to tell him. It's all a mystery to him. But nothing was more frustrating. 

It started out like a nightmare. It was sort of strange, so you'll have to bear with him, but Harry was walking. The sky was clouded grey as he stepped outside, so he knew it could rain, but he didn't go back for an umbrella or a coat. Not that he didn't try, he just couldn't. 

Why, you ask? Below his feet there was a line. A bold black line that he followed in perfect stride. It was straight. Completely straight. Well, except for a couple sharp turns. He couldn't step away from it. He tried. It was as if there were invisible walls at either side of him. 

He couldn't turn around but he could walk backwards. Really though, what did that accomplish? Aside from heightening his already sometimes crippling anxieties. Really his only option was to keep moving forward. So he did. 

Harry was forced to follow the dull straight path before him. No twists. No turns. No ups. No downs. When there was an obstacle in his path, Harry had to either go through it or climb over it. 

It was torture. There was no denying it. He was imprisoned without the ability to make his own decisions and without the capability to try. He _hated_ it. 

Although the line did provide a familiar comfort. He always knew what was coming, he could at least say that. He always knew the obstacles. He was always ready for it. There was nothing unexpected. And he liked that. 

Harry came up on Midtown High. He couldn't decide if the place looked bigger or smaller. He swiveled his head around, but it was strange, he just couldn't seem to process what he was seeing. 

And then came MJ. Her bold smile and equally bold red hair immediately brought light to the darkness. He paused to talk to her. He never remembered what she was saying, but he was certain it was important, because MJ never had anything insignificant to say. 

Then came an extraordinary observation that Harry had to check twice to really believe. At MJ's feet, his line circled around her. When she stepped just outside of it, the line curved. It was like there was a bubble or force-field around her that the line had to make space for. 

Harry just stared at it for a moment. Was it real? 

"Harry." MJ said and Harry looked up to see her face scrunch up in worry. _No_ . He had thought. _Go back to the smile_ . Seeing her worried for him just made him feel guilty. Of course Harry had a nasty habit of feeling guilty for things that weren’t really his fault. Perhaps you could understand that feeling?  
  
“Sorry.” Harry said quickly. “My mind got away from me for a moment.” He spared a charming smile. A forgery. Just as he was accustomed. Sometimes you smile to hide the pain, right?  
  
Although, is it hiding if you don’t know you’re hurt?  
  
“You look tired Harry.” MJ said, in the same sad tone she did every night.  
  
“I’m alright, really.” Harry replied. It was always the same. 

Being with her brought with it both benefit and curse. Her prescience brought with it an engaging personality and dear friend. Unfortunately it also brought with it Harry's insatiable will to please and his social anxieties. Things like that really made it easy for Harry to completely lose focus, his mind spiralling, over-thinking. 

At some point he woke up from his midday coma and was on his way again. He couldn't tell you what happened with MJ and honestly he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He just remembered continuing to follow that line forward until he stopped again. 

This time he stopped for Peter, who offered his most composed smile like always. Harry always noticed something weird about Peter whenever they crossed paths. It was uncanny really. It could have been something major to something arguably insignificant, but Harry _always_ noticed. Color him concerned. So, this time, when he noticed Peter was very lightly panting he didn't even bat an eye. It was just something he was accustomed to. It used to scare him quite a bit, but considering Peter hadn't died yet, he decided that maybe it wasn't nearly as concerning as he'd originally thought. 

"Hey, Har.” Peter greeted. There was a very subtle cleft in his voice. Peter was really good at hiding things. It was a hard thing to get used to. It was also hard to let it go, but Harry did try his best.  
  
“Hey, what’s up, Pete?” Harry returned. Seeing as it was a somewhat rare occasion to see his best friend anymore, Harry initiated the most not awkward hug within his capability and Peter accepted it. He tried not to linger, seeing as that would accomplish the direct opposite outcome of what he was going for.  
  
“Oh, you know…” Peter skirted over the question like he did a lot of things. Harry could practically see the wheels turning in the boy’s head. Trying to figure out the best way to avoid the subject without lying to Harry. Harry just wished the idiot would actually talk to him. _Come on, what’s wrong Pete? Just tell me what’s wrong._ “What’s up with you?”  
  
“Honestly, nothing much.” It wasn’t really important. He was feeling bored and unaccomplished. Unmotivated and ignorant. But really, what was he supposed to do about it? Well, he wasn’t telling Peter, that was for sure.  
  
His eyes trailed to the floor, following the line to Peter’s feet. Okay, that was bizarre...it split. What seemed like miles in either direction. Still straight lines, but the point was, there were two and they changed directions. How was Peter doing that?

"Are you alright, Harry?" Peter asked, a sort of authoritative tone about his voice. See? This was what Harry considered strange about Peter. How there were two perfectly reasonable personalities tucked inside him and for some reason he preferred to show one more than the other. One Peter that seemed to know what he was doing and another who was just a lost kid.  
  
“I’m fine.” Harry answered much too quickly, blinking to snap himself out of the trance. They locked eyes for a moment. Harry got the feeling Peter wanted to tell him something. Time was frozen as Harry waited for it. _Come on...come on…_ A weighted breath slipped from Peter’s lips and the whole world was kickstarted again. Harry knew in that moment that Peter wasn’t going to tell him anything.  
  
Do you know why Harry didn’t want to talk to Peter? Because it’s hard to trust someone who doesn’t trust you. Sure Peter had been his _best_ friend for years and he doesn’t regret a single moment of it. But in the present he was a liar. He was hiding something. Now, Harry knew he’d never hear all of Peter’s secrets and the reality was that he probably shouldn’t, but he thought that the least Peter could do was tell him when something was bothering him.  
  
Harry stared at his hands and memorized every line. Every color. The pale white of every little scar caused by a slip of his hand. Did Peter somehow think that he didn’t know what it was like? Did Peter think he wouldn’t understand?  
  
He snorted. Peter’s face of confusion and concern brought the world back into clarity for Harry. Why was he being bitter? He was going too hard on himself taking it out on the people that really meant the most. Nitpicking every little thing he could find just because he felt like complaining about something, as if that would make him feel better. Peter wasn’t a problem and he should know better by now than to second guess him. So, he spared a smile.  
  
“Really.” He emphasized. “Just dazed.”  
  
“You know, I’m here if you need to talk about anything.” Peter assured, setting a hand on his shoulder. Harry stared at it for a moment and allowed himself to feel the warmth of the gesture. He returned it soon after.  
  
“I know.”  
  
After all, the _real_ person he should have been taking it out on was Spider-Man. 

* * *

You won’t guess what happened again. He skipped ahead. He still never knew when or how he left Peter and he probably wasn’t going to figure it out, but he’d taken the left path behind his friend. He knew because he could see the other line travelling further and further away next to him on the right.  
  
He got the feeling he shouldn’t have taken this path. It felt corrupted and completely away from his reach. Everything was glitching. His heart nearly stopped when a flash of blue and red went by. It was dark here and everything was so blurry and out of focus. It gave Harry a headache trying to process it.  
  
 _You shouldn’t be here..._ His voice spoke back to him. _This isn’t for your eyes to see._ Harry pressed his hands to his temples and squeezed his eyes shut so tight that he could feel how tired he really was. “What does that mean?” He demanded. “What are you saying? That doesn’t make sense!”  
  
Peter’s face flashed in front of his eyes the moment he opened them again which caused Harry to gasp and jump back in surprise. In the blink of an eye it was gone. “Harry, I need to tell you something…” Harry’s head spun around and he swiveled in the darkness searching for Peter. He could hear him, but why couldn’t he see him?  
  
 _This isn’t for your ears to hear_ . “What does that mean?” Harry screamed.  
  
“I trust you, Har, but you need to understand this secret is bigger than the both of us.” Peter again. Where was he? What was going on? “This is important. You can’t tell anyone. Aunt May doesn’t even know.”  
  
 _Stop! Turn back! Leave!_ Something shattered in the distance and the sound rushed up to Harry’s ears in a sprint. “Gah!” When it caught up to him it was less than pleasant. A crippling headache overcame him. Everything was loud. Everything was painful. _Leave now!_ “I can’t!” Harry screamed. _Yes, you can!_ So much pressure was building up, so much pain, and he just wanted it to stop.  
  
“Harry.” Silence. Deafening silence. Calm, composed darkness. One word and the world was at peace again. No headache. No pain. It was just quiet. Eerily quiet.  
  
 _Thwip_ . Harry’s stomach dropped seeing the familiar blue and red blur that he now recognized as Spider-Man. He swung with the grace and precision of a focused acrobat and dropped in front of Harry as neatly as a professional. Harry’s eyes traced up his form in shock. “Harry, I need to tell you something.”  
  
“What could you possibly have to say to me?” Harry growled.  
  
Spider-Man spoke over him. “You have to listen to me.”  
  
“I don’t _have_ to do anything.” Spider-Man didn’t respond. In fact, he didn’t even move. Harry was understandably confused by this. “Spider-Man?” No response. The hero’s expression seemed vacant and it was creepy. He was frozen. “What?” A thought occurred to Harry, just a stupid little theory, but it had some weight to it. He leaned over. Spider-Man’s gaze stayed trained at where his face was previously. Goosebumps crawled up Harry’s arms as he witnessed it. That thought suddenly came to his mind. Maybe he really shouldn’t be here.  
  
But the worst thought was the one he was the most sure of. Harry replayed the moment in his mind and Spider-Man really didn’t seem to be acknowledging him. Maybe he wasn’t the one Spider-Man was talking to.  
  
It sounded crazy didn’t it? He said _his_ name, why wouldn’t it be him? But it definitely wasn’t him, he was certain of it. Spider-Man suddenly moved again, his hand reaching up to his mask. “Don’t freak out.” He said, and that’s when Harry noticed that he sounded an awful lot like Peter. Harry watched his gloved hand with an indiscernible amount of interest as he slipped the mask free from his face. “I’m Spider-Man.” The words came into clarity after he saw Peter’s face. The same concerned expression as before when he nearly jumped out of his skin, as though Peter was afraid that he wouldn’t be accepted.  
  
“No.” Harry took a step back. “No, you’re not...you can’t be…” He whispered. But it all really did add up. How weird Peter acts all the time. How tired he is. How forgetful he is. What he’s hiding. It all kind of came full circle, didn’t it? It was staring him right in the face the whole time. “Yes, you are…” The realization came with so many more questions. _So many more_ . There were so many things he wanted to ask. So many things he wanted to say. So many things he felt that it was just too overwhelming to digest.  
  
Peter smiled. It was a handsome, relieved smile that Harry hadn’t seen for a while. He had almost forgotten that Peter was capable of relaxing. “I’ll answer all your questions as best I can, I promise.” Harry saw someone who looked an awful lot like him move forward to hug Peter and he knew his suspicions were confirmed. That voice was right...this wasn’t his right to witness. Was this even real? “Good to have you on board.” 

* * *

Suddenly his chest hurt and he was flying. Or he wasn’t really flying, he was swinging. There was an arm wrapped around him and his limbs were flopping around like he was a rag-doll. Then he dropped and he rolled and the red and black webbed boots of Spider-Man stood before him. He looked up, his expression surly still as shocked as he felt. He could see Peter clear as day behind that mask now and he couldn’t feel anything. It was a paralyzing experience.  
  
Peter - or Spider-Man sighed shifting his weight from foot to foot and then he paced. “I’m sorry, Har.” He said, his voice hoarse with sorrow. “You…” Another sigh. Like many times before Harry could see the wheels turning in Peter’s mind. He sounded so sad, so hopeless. Before Harry might have found that motivation to encourage him, but now he just didn’t know what to do. Still, his heart bled for his best friend.  
  
Spider-Man balled his fist, hammering it into a wall that Harry hadn’t even noticed was there until just then.. The brick cracked and debris crumbled to the ground like stale bread. Peter really had all the power? “I’m sorry, Har. I’m so sorry.” Peter said. The superhero offered Harry his hand and Harry accepted, allowing Spider-Man to pull him to his feet. “You have to go back.” He said. “You have to take the right path. Do you understand?”  
  
Of course, Harry didn’t say a word. Instead he looked down. No line. It stopped directly at Spider-Man's feet and it didn’t continue. Harry wanted to say something. Anything would do, but he just couldn’t seem to form the words. “Take the right path.”  
  
“But…” The earth shook and both boys stumbled. Spider-Man’s whole posture stiffened and Harry saw genuine fear, but also complete focus in every move he made.  
  
“Just do it!” He cried, shoving his hands into Harry’s chest.

* * *

Harry opened his eyes and Peter was gone. Before him was the fork Peter’s presence seemed to have left behind and Harry took a good look at both paths. One was dark and flickering, the left path. The other was bright and clear, the right path. It was a no brainer. And with a push from his psyche, he seemed to remember a voice telling him to take the right path, so he did just that. 

That’s when he woke up. He had never made it quite that far before. It felt completed, but it also didn’t feel real. Nothing about that was real. There was no way Peter was Spider-Man. There was no way Peter wouldn’t tell him. It couldn’t possibly be real. And his mind was made up. 

When he told Peter about it that day Peter stiffened. He looked just as tired as Harry, if not worse for wear. Peter was tense all the way through Harry’s retelling, until Spider-Man was gone and then he relaxed. Harry didn’t think Peter knew that he noticed, but he did. He just wasn’t sure what to make of it. “Crazy right?”  
  
“Yeah…” Peter replied, his eyes falling away. “Crazy.” He seemed sad. That same sorrow that Harry had seen on Spider-Man. Just like in the dream when he kept apologizing. _No._  
  
Harry set a hand on his shoulder. “We should hang out later.” He said, a smile on his face. “We haven’t hung out in a while.”  
  
Peter’s face brightened and he nodded. “That sounds great.” He agreed.  
  
Curiously, after that, Harry didn’t ever have the dream again. It was as if he defeated something. Or...someone else did. But Peter always asked him how he slept every day afterward, like clockwork. It was like he knew something Harry didn’t. You know what? Maybe he did. Whatever. It wasn’t any of Harry’s business anyway, was it? 

**Author's Note:**

> Some friends helped me out with Harry's character and couple other things. I really enjoyed writing this and the process. I hope you all enjoyed reading it. I'd love to hear your thoughts in a comment! :)


End file.
